’ ‘Sir!’ came from Trodger, and the booted feet clattered off and out of the front door. The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to chatter rapidly. She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert. “You see, father,” she said, “it isn’t only this affair of the dance. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes.
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